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2003-12-29 @ 3:13 p.m.
the write stuff

I was just reading fellow diarylander Gigantor (sorry I'm techno-peabrain and don't know how to link you to him) but he was saying how he had gone back and read his diary when he used to write everyday and sometimes would have multiple entries and referred to it as "boring shit" telling how he and his friend used to drive around to Target stores in the tri-state area to shop.

Well, isn't that what life really about? Boring shit, punctuated with an occasional interesting event? When I was out walking the dog today I was thinking about how much my diary is, if I may be so bold, like Seinfeld.

Its about nothing.

I don't have much of a life. I don't work. I only have one friend (Married Guy). I don't have sex. I don't have money. The only feelings I generate are anger at my mother, which are really just old ones restimulated everyday when I talk to her. I have my shrink. I have a cat. I get food stamps. I'm bipolar.

Wahoo! What an exciting life! If it ended tomorrow would I be missed? My mom would miss me. Married Guy might be sad for a couple of days. My cat would wonder why I hadn't changed her box recently. Anything else?

Oh, my mom would probably find this diary and wonder why the hell I was so fucking mad at her. I'm not really sure why.

"A"...any words on this subject? Oh wait, you're on vacation. Carry on.

But I think if any one of you out there really examined your life, you would realize its largely boring. I mean, even J'Lo and Ben probably fall asleep on the couch on Sunday afternoon. You do have your excitement junkies, who probably crave something every minute of the day. They probably work in emergency rooms.

But looking back in my diary I kind of make my own excitement. Its generated mostly by the drama queen gene passed down from my mother. I used to be solely depressed for many years. My dad suffered from severe depression and I figured I got it from him. But then about 5 years ago, I started getting really boingy emotionally. I always thought that manic-depressive people were either depressed or incredibly HAPPY! I didn't realize that manic meant manic, as it hyper, as in too much energy and not enough hours in the day. Which also meant if you didn't have a problem, you created one so you would have something to do.

I'm getting a little better about living in perpetual crisis mode. That is very tiring, even if you're manic. I prefer to use my manic-ness for creativity if at all possible...writing, art, music. I have talent in all three fields. Unfortunately, I've never been able to lasso them long enough to make a decent living at them. And I think it is mainly because I am so scattered from being bipolar. I'm lucky if I can even remember to pay my bills. You would think sitting around doing nothing all day would give me plenty of time to remember to do these things, but no. I forget to pay bills. Sorry, electric company.

But writing has always been my passion. I've published over 250 newspaper articles. I had my own weekly entertainment column when I was 18. I've only had one story rejected in my entire life and it wasn't that the story was bad, it just wasn't the right market.

So what is the point of all this? Got off track as usual (a problem for bipolars). I can write about nothing and make it entertaining. Or at least I think I can. I have days where I have absolutely nothing happening and yet I can sit down and write 500 words and usually get at least one good one liner out of it. And for that I'm thankful.

And I'm also thankful for how therapeutic writing is. I've worked through so much of my anger at my mother and my abusers here. I'm a total whimp in real life. Somebody could drop a freakin' anvil on my toe and I would probably apologize to them for being in the way. But here I can come roaring out like a Hummer in overdrive.

So don't let J'Lo and Ben thing fool you. You may see them getting in and out of limos, but they still drink milk out of the carton just like us. Keep on writing Diarylanders. Its good for your health.

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